


Silk Pajamas

by Angel_Marie



Category: Jeeves & Wooster, Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse
Genre: Bottom Jeeves, Clothing Kink, M/M, top!Bertie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 18:57:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9780617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angel_Marie/pseuds/Angel_Marie
Summary: Silk, seduction, happy spots, teasing, fluff, and positive reinforcement.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm finally transferring this from my old Livejournal account, VioletJimJams, and the IndeedSir community where I originally posted it.
> 
> Still haven't beta'd, though!

The hour was late—or very early—when Bertie toddled on home. Around the hour he might have toddled in 3 or 4 years ago. But over time, his toddlings had commenced earlier and earlier, until on occasion he curled into bed at an hour that might be called “reasonable”.

But this night, Bertie had been held up at the Drones, stopped by chum after chum pleading for permission to seek Jeeves for advice. Being a helpful sort, Bertie listened to each claim long after he’d rather have told the lot to boil their collective heads. Many of the difficulties, Bertie solved himself. After years of living with and being rescued by Jeeves, Bertie had picked up a few of his methods. Many chaps seemed to have some version of the same problem, often multiple times. There was no use wasting Jeeves’ brilliant mind on trivialities.

Unless they were Bertie’s trivialities, of course.

The flat was dark, except for a dim light shining through the partially opened bedroom door. Jeeves’ room was closed and quiet. It was far passed the hour when Jeeves might still be waiting up, but he always left a little light on for him.

Hanging his hat, Bertie considered waking the man, but discarded the idea almost at once. It wasn’t cricket to rouse a fellow from a good sleep, especially when said fellow roused himself a good deal earlier than most mortals. Bertie spared a moment and a longing glance, then sighed and retreated. He would make do with his lonely bed tonight, and console himself with the promise of making up for the absence first thing in the morning. The thought did little to cheer him, until he pushed open the door to his softly lit room and stopped dead. Jeeves, wide awake, reclined on the plush pillows beneath Bertie’s covers reading some thick tome. That would be enough to stop any sensible man dead in his tracks, but this Jeeves wore the pajamas Bertie had purchased for him. Silk pajamas.

Violet silk.

Jeeves despised the color, but kept the set to please Bertie and wore them rarely. In fact, Jeeves only wore them when he had a single activity in mind.

Always willing to be seduced, Bertie closed and locked the door.

“Good evening, sir.” Jeeves placed a slip of paper between the pages and set his book aside. “I trust you had a pleasant evening?”

“Very pleasant.” He had not, but it look up at the moment. Bertie shed his jacket and tie, working on his buttons as he approached the bed. Jeeves shot a pained glance to the discarded items left to wrinkle on the floor, but he would leave them until morning. Bertie tossed the shirt aside, which brought the Jeevesian eyes back where they belonged: off the floor and on the young master.

Bertie sat on the edge of the bed to remove his shoes and socks. Jeeves waited patiently and—Bertie hoped—enjoying the view. Standing a moment, Bertie let his trousers pool to the floor and kicked them away. Jeeves slid aside and turned down a corner of the bedding. Still wearing his shorts, Bertie slipped in and draped himself over Jeeves’ torso. “Good of you to wait up,” Bertie purred, unbuttoning the silk top.

“It was no trouble, Sir.”

Bertie paused to glare at Jeeves. Would this always be a problem between them? “Jeeves, I do wish you would call me ‘Bertie’.”

“It is not my place, Sir.”

Bertie leaned on one arm and quirked a brow. “Oh? And where is your place?”

The corner of Jeeves’ mouth twitched. There was no graceful answer to the question, both knew. Bertie spared them a response, preferring to lick and nip Jeeves’ clavicle, fingers absently teasing the crisp hairs on his stomach. Jeeves allowed his fingers to lightly brush against Bertie’s leg, but his arms remained at his side, allowing the younger man free reign. A pink tongue slid down the center of his chest to his navel. Bertie circled the indention, then gently tugged the fold of skin between his teeth. Jeeves twitched, a noise catching in his throat. Bertie hummed, pleased with the reaction. Jeeves proved to be sensitive in the most interesting places. His mind teased him with ideas for another quite interesting area, but there was no hurry.

As he suckled and laved Jeeves’ stomach, Bertie slid his arm under one leg so he could massage Jeeves’ inner thigh through the silk. Jeeves shuddered, exhaling a shaky breath. With each pass, Bertie’s fingers sneaked closer to his groin, making it difficult for Jeeves to remain still. After endless minutes, Bertie brushed over Jeeves’ scrotum with the lightest touch. Jeeves made a small noise and pressed his hip closer. Bertie grinned, repeating the caress. He knew his touch alone was not responsible for the reaction. It was the silk.

Long fingers moved up, rubbing the smooth fabric over aching flesh with practiced motions. He angled one leg over Jeeves’ thighs to quell his bucking, refusing the not-quite silent request for more pressure. Bertie pinched the fabric and tugged, stretching silk until it pressed taut over Jeeves’ member, then released. He repeated the action until frustrated moans became desperate whimpers. “Please, Sir,” he plead.

“Who?” Bertie found the tip and dragged thumb and silk across the sensitive head.

Jeeves bit his lip and hissed. “B-Bertie.”

His hand wrapped around Jeeves’ cock and dragged silk firmly up the entire length. A satisfied moan sent shivers down his spine. There was something so delicious about reducing this brilliant creature to a writhing, groaning wreck.

Bertie dragged himself up the bed to slide his tongue into his lover’s mouth. Jeeves clutched his shoulders and kissed him back, a sloppy, noisy collision of lips and tongue punctuated by chest-deep groans as Bertie’s hand switched from stroking Jeeves’ penis to squeezing his testicles and back again, caressing him thoroughly through the expensive cloth. By the time they separated, panting for air, Jeeves had raised one leg to grant Bertie greater access.

Bertie nudged Jeeves to his side, pulling the silk top down just enough so he could kiss and suckle shoulder and neck. His hands stayed busy on Jeeves’ stomach and genitals, leaving Jeeves nothing to do but clutch helplessly at the sheets. He pressed back against Bertie’s erection. “Sir,” he gasped. “I need you.”

“Who?” Bertie queried, dipping one finger passed the scrotum to tease his silk-covered hole.

“Mm… Bertie.”

He abandoned Jeeves for a moment, snatching a jar of lubricant kept within easy reach in his bedside table drawer. When he turned back, Jeeves had rolled almost to his stomach, leaving just enough space to avoid discomfort on his privates, pajama bottoms already untied. Bertie tugged them down just enough to reveal Jeeves’ sweet buttocks, letting the fabric stretch and hold over his erection. He spared a moment to fondle and squeeze the pair. “You do have a lovely bottom, Jeeves.”

Jeeves nearly purred. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Who?”

Frustrated huff. “Bertie.”

Bertie snickered and shed his smallclothes before coating his fingers with the thick cream. He dipped fingers between spread legs, seeking and finding Jeeves’ entrance. Two fingers slid passed the carefully stretched muscle with ease, manicured nails not even scratching the delicate passage. He measured the depth with care, then curled his fingers and pressed hard. Jeeves cried out, his body jolting with delight.

“Was that your happy spot?”

Jeeves glared over his shoulder as best he could at Bertie’s too innocent tone. He had the audacity to flutter his lashes before prodding the prostate again. Jeeves could not suppress a shudder, pressing his forehead to the pillow, pressing back against Bertie’s questing hand.

Bertie already coated himself with lubricant. As delightful as he found this, there was more fun to be had. He tugged the pajamas down a few inches more, holding the front in place by grasping Jeeves again. The two men pressed together until Bertie’s length was fully sheathed in Jeeves’ body. Bertie held for a moment, savoring the throbbing burn of pleasure that still coursed through him. Every single time. But Jeeves was not so patient, pushing back, encouraging motion. Bertie obliged, rocking against him, angled just so to provide maximum pleasure. One arm held his weight while the other teased and rubbed silk over Jeeves’ hardness until he had to muffle his groans in the pillow. The silk was damp, absorbing precum. Jeeves would not last much longer. Bertie changed his position to a more satisfying angle, thrusting harder until his eyes began to roll back, relentlessly rubbing moist fabric until Jeeves screamed into the pillow, a wet stain blossoming beneath Bertie’s hand. As always, this pushed Bertie over the edge, and he collapsed, panting against his valet’s neck.

They lay for several minutes, basking in heady sensation. Bertie’s restless fingers caressed Jeeves’ chest, sometimes brushing over the silk top, preferring to stray to bare skin. Jeeves gave a shuddering sigh, signaling that he had returned to coherency. Bertie squeezed his waist, blotting sweaty skin with the pajamas.

“The fabric is ruined,” Jeeves muttered, his voice deepened with satisfaction.

Bertie nuzzled his ear. “I’ll buy you new ones.”

“Very good, Sir.”

“Who?”

A half-hearted elbow was his response.


End file.
